Resolutions
by Winged Monkey
Summary: Second of the Holiday Trilogy. The encounter with Karai left much more than physical scars on one of the turtles, and they must soon discover that not everything is what it seems. No Slash but does have some brotherly fluff. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Well hello! At last I have enough of this written to start posting! YAY! As some of you already know, this is a sequel to "I'll be Home for Christmas." If you haven't already read that, I strongly suggest you read that first or you might be very confused with this fic. (While you're there, if you want to leave a review--hint hint--it would be greatly appreciated). Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to TMNT or Srgnt. Frog manga**

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_Two blades. Each is an extension of myself. They must fly in perfect harmony. For the blades to be in harmony, I must be in balance. My every move must be perfect, be exact._

_OW! Pain…I drop one of my katana onto the floor. My shoulder is throbbing, but I can't stop now. Reaching down to pick my blade back up is also painful, but no pain no gain, right?_

_Again. __Swinging the blades around.__ One is __dominant,__ the other is not but could become so if given the chance. That is, if my shoulder will calm down for a bit and let me train. I must once more regain balance, something that is hard to do when a war is raging within me._

_Thoughts.__ All outside thoughts must be pushed aside. They are not important now. __Only the movement of my katana.__ I must focus on my katana. I must focus on my movement, my __kata_

_Slicing through the air.__ It must be faultless or the move will have failed. The almost-silent singing swish tells me my angle is just right for this __kata__. I love the soft ring, the feel of control, the sighing of my brother…wait! __The sighing of my brother?_

Leonardo broke out of his meditative state and looked over at Michelangelo, who was sitting in the corner with the manga he had received for Christmas. For a brief moment, before he felt the gaze of his oldest brother, a strange look was on his face as he stared into empty space. However, the moment he noticed that Leo had stopped practicing, he quickly covered it up with a jovial smile.

"Hey, bro, what's up?"

Slightly concerned, Leonardo sheathed his katana and walked over to his youngest brother. He tried to place where he had seen that look before. It seemed all too familiar and recent.

"Are you okay, Mike?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Um, no reason."

Leonardo sat down next to his brother. Seventeen years of being with each other almost every minute and Michelangelo still thought he could hide that something was bothering him. Leo looked down at the Sergeant Frog book. It looked like it hadn't even been opened. _Maybe this ha__s__ something to do with him not getting__ the Justice Force comic?_

"Do you not like it?"

"Like what?" Mikey looked at him confusedly. Then he glanced down at the manga. "Oh, that? No, I really like it, Leo. Really!"

Leo raised an eyeridge at him.

"Okay, okay, so I haven't actually _read_ it yet, but I really do like it."

"So what were you doing?"

"I was…um…thinking."

The normally jovial turtle looked down with a solemn expression. Leo was disturbed to notice that his baby brother's normally clear blue eyes were now stormy as though he was waging a war within himself. It was a look that Leo knew frequently crossed his own face, but never had he seen it on Mikey.

"Want to talk about it?" the blue clad turtle asked after a pause.

The youngest turtle did not answer. He just kept staring downwards. His hands started to twitch slightly.

"Um, Mike? You know you can tell me, no matter what it is, right?"

To his surprise, Michelangelo stood up quickly with the manga in hand and hurried towards his room. Leo jumped up after him.

"Mikey! Wait!"

The youngest turtle spun around for a brief moment.

"No, I don't want to talk about it, Leo!"

He turned back around and left his oldest brother staring after him. Donatello entered a moment later. He was looking over his shoulder back at Michelangelo.

"What's up with Mikey?"

Leonardo looked at him, his brows creased worriedly.

"I don't know. All I did was ask him if he was alright, then he went all Raph on me! Any ideas?"

Donatello shook his head. "I don't know. He hasn't told me that anything was bothering him lately. I think the only time I've ever seen him act like that is when Klunk 'lost it' on one of his Silver Sentry comics. Remember? He was depressed for almost a week!"

The realization of where he had seen that look suddenly struck Leonardo. It was the very same look that Michelangelo had had on his face back in Karai's dungeon only moments after he, Leo, had regained consciousness. It was a look of complete despair.

"I should go talk to him."

Leo tried to walk past his second youngest brother, but Donatello blocked his way.

"Just let Mikey blow off some steam for a bit. I'll go talk with him in a bit. However, Mikey is not what I came to talk to you about."

Leonardo's guard instantly went up. "Then what's up, Don?"

"You can't keep training for several hours straight in your condition, Leo," was the reply. "Instead of relaxing like you're supposed to, you've actually started practicing more. Even Raph's not being _that_ stubborn."

"I feel fine, Don."

"But you _aren't_ fine, Leo. If you keep going, you might easily make your injuries worse."

"Don, I'll be—"

"Look, I know you well enough to know you aren't going to stop," Donatello interrupted.

Leonardo shrugged with a slightly sheepish grin, but winced in pain at the movement of his shoulder and grabbed it with his other hand.

"Case in point. But would you at least try to let up a bit or maybe just use one arm?"

"I'll think about it."

"You need to do a little more than think, Leo."

Leonardo turned his back on his brother.

"I appreciate your concern, Don," he said in a tone that indicated that he was done talking.

Donatello opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again as Leonardo withdrew one of his katana and began moving into yet another kata. With a small sigh, he turned and walked out of the dojo—which in truth was really more of just an open space in the middle of their lair—and entered the kitchen.

Raphael was sitting in there at the table with a bowl of cereal. He looked up with a bit of milk dripping down his chin. After quickly swallowing, the red-clad turtle wiped the milk off with the back of his hand. Donatello gave him a brief nod and headed over to the coffee maker. Taking his favorite mug from a nearby cupboard, he poured himself a cupful of the steaming black liquid and turned back around to face his brother.

"So how'd it go?" Raphael mumbled, his mouth still half full.

Donatello shook his head despondently. "No luck with Leo, but that's no surprise. I'm more worried about Mikey, though."

Raphael set his full spoon back down into the bowl. "Why? What's wrong with Mike?"

Don brought the mug back down from his beak. "Something's gotten him really upset. When I passed him on my way to the dojo, he wouldn't even acknowledge that I was there except for a brief glance. Then, he ran up into his room."

"Leo?"

Donatello shook his head negatively. "Not Leo. I heard everything that happened. It wasn't Leo."

"Then what's eatin' him?"

"I'm not sure. I was planning on talking with him in a few moments."

Donatello swigged down the rest of his coffee and set the mug down on the cabinet. Raphael watched his brother out of the corner of his eye as he went back to eating.

"What cup number is that today?"

"Five, maybe six. I don't remember right off the top of my head."

"Yer addicted to that stuff, Don."

"Well, would you rather have an awake Don or a cranky Don?" the purple-clad turtle called back over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

Raphael didn't answer. He just turned back to his cereal.

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_So please review! I know you're out there! Flames will be used to warm something-or-the-other-that-I-can't-think-of-right-now up._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Twelve reviews? Wow! You guys are awesome! Thanks!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT or their associates**

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"Mikey? You there?" 

Donatello knocked on his brother's door. There was no answer from inside, only a scratching sound like papers being pushed along the stone floor.

"Look, Mike, I know you're there. I can hear you, you know."

There was a barely audible sigh from inside, followed by the sound of the squeaky springs in Michelangelo's mattress.

"You can come in, Donnie."

Donatello pushed open the wooden door. Like normal, Michelangelo's room was eligible for help from FEMA. Action figures and comic books were spread all over the floor. Mixed in among them were several pieces of paper that were either blank or had some of the youngest turtle's partially finished drawings scrawled across them. In the middle of the mess, Mikey was lying face down on his bed.

As he carefully made his way over to his little brother while trying to avoid stepping on anything, Donatello noticed another stack of papers neatly tucked away in a corner. Though he briefly wondered about this abnormality, Don pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on the brother in front of him. He sat down next to where Michelangelo was lying. Gently, using a technique that Master Splinter had used when they were young, Don began to rub up and down his brother's shell.

They stayed like that in silence for several minutes. At last, Mikey rolled his head to the side and spoke.

"Don?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Leo thinks I'm mad at him?"

Donatello thought for a few moments before answering.

"Maybe. You know how Leo is. He thinks everything bad or upsetting that happens is somehow his fault, so there's a pretty high probability of him thinking you're mad at him. But the real question is whether or not that's really the case."

Michelangelo rolled over onto his back and stared at his brother with a confused look on his face. Donatello smiled.

"I mean, are you mad at Leo or not?"

Mikey shook his head slowly. "I'm not mad at him."

"Then what's up, Mike?"

The orange-clad turtle did not answer for several minutes, but Don just waited. He could see the debate raging behind his brother's eyes. For a brief moment, Mikey's eyes held pure, unadulterated terror, but then it subsided. However, that momentary revelation terrified Donatello. He tried to keep his mounting worry hidden from the youngest, but was, nonetheless, unsuccessful at keeping it out of his voice.

"Are…are you all right, Mike?"

"I dunno if I wanna talk 'bout it."

"How come?"

"It…it…hurts."

"Just try, bro. I can't help you feel better if I don't know what's wrong."

"I don't want to talk about it, Don."

"I'm just here to help, Mike. Are you sure you don't want to tell me—"

"I SAID I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!"

Michelangelo sat bolt upright with a determined look on his face. Startled by the sudden outburst, Donatello stood up off of the bed. In his haste, he neglected to watch where he put his foot and stepped on one of the action figures. It dug into his foot, causing the scientific turtle to hop up and down clutching his sole.

"OWOWOWOWOW!"

"Donnie? You okay?"

Don nodded his head as he sat back down on the bed, rubbing his foot.

"Man, I'm so sorry!"

Donatello was surprised to see tears and horror in his brother's eyes.

"Mike, it's not your fault. Really. I'm fine."

"Maybe you should go now," Michelangelo suggested while wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just go."

Mikey lay back down on his bed. The springs groaned under him.

Carefully so as to not step on anything else, Donatello made his way back to the door. Before he left, he turned back to his brother.

"Tell me when you're ready, okay?"

Mutely and without getting up, Michelangelo nodded his head.

Donatello walked out and down the hall. To his surprise (though on further reflection Don realized that it wasn't really surprising), Leonardo was coming towards him with a very concerned look on his face.

"Is Mikey all right?"

Donatello came closer to his oldest brother and laid a friendly hand on Leo's shoulder.

"He's not mad at you, Leo. You didn't do anything to upset him."

Relief flashed across the blue-clad turtle's face, but then it clouded over again.

"Let it go, Leo," Donatello told him with warning in his voice as he recognized the look on his brother's face. "It wasn't your fault."

"No, it probably was," the eldest confided. "Too much has been my fault lately, Don. I should have been ready! I should have been able to stop them from ever getting to you guys! I should have—"

"LEO! Stop that! There is absolutely no need for that right now. You did all that you could, so just stop it."

Leonardo gave his second youngest brother a look, plainly telling him that he was not going to accept that.

Donatello sighed. "Come on, I don't want to explain what's up with Mikey more than once. Raph and Sensei are waiting for us."

He took Leonardo by the arm and led him to the kitchen. Both Raphael and Master Splinter were sitting at the table. After he deposited Leo at his normal chair, Don went for another cup of coffee. He turned the pot upside down over his favorite cup, but only a few drops came out into his mug. The turtle let out a small, frustrated growl. He set the mug back down on the cabinet and turned around to face his family.

"You are all aware of Michelangelo's recent change in attitude, right?"

Everyone nodded their heads.

"Ya know, he even started actin' weird—I mean more than normal—before Christmas," Raphael added.

"That is true, my son."

"I've noticed the same thing," Leonardo agreed. "Any ideas, Don?"

Donatello nodded. "Off hand, I'd say he's experiencing a literal case of 'shell shock'—that is, post traumatic stress disorder. Even though we've all been captured before, something must have happened this time that really affected him. Any clue, guys?"

Raphael immediately shook his head. "I was out the whole time, 'member?"

Leonardo, however, was staring down at the table as everyone turned to him.

"Leo? Do you know?"

"When they brought Mike in, I tried to stop them, but I couldn't reach him. During the struggle, they knocked me out. When I woke up, Karai was saying something, but I couldn't understand her. When I was finally coherent, she was walking over to Mikey. He looked completely terrified. I managed to get her to leave him alone, but I don't know what happened before then. If only I had woken up sooner!"

Leonardo slammed his fist on the table. Splinter reached over and laid a comforting hand on his distraught son.

"You did what you could, my son, and that was enough. Now we all need to be strong and help Michelangelo through whatever trials he is encountering. However, in order to help him the most, you must put aside your own feelings of unworthiness. Only by—"

Just then, Donatello's Shell Cell rang, saving Leo from a lecture. With an embarrassed look on his face, Don answered it.

"Hello? April? What's up?" He listened for a moment. "Okay, I'll tell them…Yeah, you too. Talk to you later."

He closed the cell with a click.

"April said there's a story coming up in the news that she thinks we'll find very interesting."

"Did she say what it was about?"

Donatello shook his head slowly. "All she said is that it has something to do with Karai."

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_Please review! Flames will be used to heat up my coffee enough so that I have enough energy to bother going out and fixing my fence that blew down yesterday_ :) 


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks, everyone! I love reading all of your reviews! Just a heads up: I'm leaving for a week-long vacation on Saturday, so I won't be able to post anything next week. If all goes well, I might be able to get another chapter up this week but we'll see._

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT**

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They sat down on the couch in front of the television sets. Wordlessly, Donatello picked up the remote and flicked on the center set.

The local news station was just coming back on after a commercial break. The dark haired woman was leveling out her stack of paper by tapping it on the news desk in front of her. At last, she looked up at the camera.

_And now for follow up of a story that was first brought to you on this station. Oroku Karai was released from the hospital today after a brutal assassination attempt only a week and a half before Christmas. She described her attacker to the police as having worn an ancient Japanese goblin costume that made him look like a giant turtle. She also said that she believes the attacker may be linked with an enemy of her late father, Oroku Saki, who goes by the name of Leonardo. She informed our reporters that this 'Leonardo' was a one-time employee of her father's, but then left after a violent falling out. Police are warning citizens to be on the lookout for anyone wearing a costume that looks like the one captured on this surveillance footage._

The turtles gasped as the image on the screen flipped to a still image of Leonardo in a snow-filled alley with his swords drawn.

"That's where they jumped me that night!" Leonardo exclaimed while pointing disbelievingly at the screen.

The reporter continued. _If you have any information regarding this crime, you are urged to contact the police immediately. However, citizens are warned to stay away if they do spot this individual, as the attacker seems to be a trained martial artist. Now in sports news…_

"Oh shell, oh shell, oh shell!" Leonardo rubbed his hand slowly over his head.

"Great. Everythin' jus' went from bad ta worse!"

"And it's all my fault!" Leonardo dropped his head into his hands.

"My son, dispel the dark imaginings of your mind. It was no more your fault than a flower is at fault for someone picking it." Master Splinter smiled gently at is son.

Leonardo ran his hands over his face and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa. He looked to Donatello.

"Would you mind getting Mike? I have a feeling a lot is going to be happening soon and I want him fully aware of everything. Just to be safe."

"Sure Leo. Be right back."

With little effort, the purple-clad turtle jogged over to the ladder that led to the upper levels and swung himself up.

Back on the couch, Raphael was sneaking worried looks at his only older brother. Last time Leonardo had become this emotional over something, they ended up shipping him over to the Ancient One in Japan. This time, though, Leo seemed to much more open about his feelings and, quite frankly, it was starting to creep the hot-headed turtle out. What's more, being this open was totally out of character for the oldest turtle and Raphael was unsure what to make of this new development.

Suddenly, Donatello came running back down towards them.

"GUYS! MIKEY'S GONE!"

Leonardo jumped up off of the couch at his brother's outburst.

"You sure Don? He's not just in the bathroom or anything?"

"I'm completely sure. He's not anywhere in the lair!"

Leo's face became even more grave. "I'm going to call his cell."

The phone rang only a few times before they heard Michelangelo's custom ring tone reverberating off of the lair's walls. They all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, let's go find him," Leo suggested. "I want to make sure he's alright."

"He'd better hope I ain't the one ta find him first 'cause he's gettin' a slap upside the head fer makin' me worry!"

"Raphael!" Master Splinter scolded. "You will do no such thing. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, yeah." Raph waved his hand nonchalantly as the three turtles hurried towards the source of the ringtone.

It led them straight to the missing turtle's room. Donatello walked in and picked the ringing Shell Cell off of the nightstand.

"Here's his phone, but no Mikey!"

"Then where is he?" By this time, Leonardo was quite exasperated.

"I don't know!" Donatello was just as exasperated as his brother. "Maybe we can find the answer somewhere in here."

He walked carefully over to the neat pile of papers he had seen earlier and picked them up. The top paper was a detailed drawing of Leonardo from when he had been held by Karai, complete with bruising and other injuries. Michelangelo had even managed to capture the look of excruciating pain that had covered his brother's face. The next picture was a similar one, only it was of Raphael.

"Well, I think I know what was so different about this time," Donatello muttered under his breath.

"My sons! My sons!" Master Splinter called from the lower levels. "Come quickly!"

The three turtles ran out of Michelangelo's room. Their Sensei was standing in the middle of the floor, waving a piece of paper.

"It is a note from Michelangelo," the rat explained as his sons descended.

Raphael was the first down. He ran over and grabbed the note from his father.

"Aw shell," he muttered as he read it to himself. "Guys! Listen to this! _Dudes and Master: Sorry for running out without telling you. I just need to get some air. I'll be back later or maybe tomorrow morning. –M._"

Leo and his brothers exchanged worried looks.

"We've got to find him. With Karai being back in action, people being more on the watch for us, and him not knowing about it, he could be in serious danger!"

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Michelangelo sat curled up in a ball at the edge of a roof. 

After Donatello had left his room, he had snuck out past the rest of his family who had been talking in the kitchen. He heard his name mentioned several times but paid no attention to them. He set a note down on a table in the entertainment area and then, using all his stealth skills, snuck out without his brother or father noticing.

The moment he was safely out of their hearing range, he had begun running. He couldn't remember when he had surfaced and climbed to the rooftops, but he was now here nonetheless, staring out at the few stars that he could see through the clouds and city lights.

His gut was twisting and turning like it did whenever he was sick, but he knew that that wasn't the case right now. He was feeling completely miserable and just wanted to be alone. _Despite what they say about misery loving company_ he thought wryly to himself.

He curled up a little tighter while wishing that he had remembered to bring his coat or at least a warm blanket. He shivered as a cold breeze blew past him.

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Three dark figures leapt across the rooftops, stopping only to search behind structures that were large enough to allow an individual to hide behind. Yet again and again, the shadows moved on to yet another roof, having not found what they were looking for. After almost three-quarters of an hour of performing this grueling task while remaining almost completely silent, one of the shadows spoke. 

"This is stupid! There's no way we're goin' ta find him at this rate!"

"Raph's right, Leo," the second shadow piped up.

The third shadow sighed and shifted slightly while seeming to think. "Okay, here's the plan. We'll split up, but keep communications open at all times. Call at the first sign of trouble. Understand?"

"Right." Donatello pulled his headset out of his Shell Cell and set it comfortably on his head.

"Raph?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Leo. I'll give ya a call if I find him."

Raphael turned abruptly and took a running leap onto a nearby roof. The other two turtles nodded briefly to each other and ran in separate directions.

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With the back of his hand, Michelangelo wiped away a stray tear that had managed to materialize at the corner of his eye without him realizing it. He stared out at the city below him, watching all of the hubbub beneath him. A man and a woman, both obviously drunk, were exiting a bar. A child was crying by an open window in a building across the street. He could hear two people yelling from somewhere nearby. _Is this it? Is this all that my bros and I keep risking our shells for? All this pain and misery?_

He tried to keep his mind from wandering back to what had happened in Karai's cell, but it wasn't working. He was so bothered that he even tried meditating, but again her haunting words rang through his skull.

As deeply engaged with his own thoughts as he was, he did not notice the dark figure that was slowly creeping up behind him.

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_Please review! I know you're out there. Flames will be used to make myself another cup of coffee. _;-) 


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Congrats to everyone who guessed what the shadow was correctly! Thanks for the reviews! This will be the last chapter for about a week or so (I get back next Friday, but that doesn't mean I'll have another chapter written by then). A warning: there is the use of a swear word in this chapter._

**Disclaimer: I still don't own them. Please don't sue me.**

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The dark figure slowly materialized into a giant turtle as he walked forwards, closer to his baby brother. Without saying a single word, Leonardo sat down on the edge of the roof next to Michelangelo. The orange-clad turtle jumped, startled.

"Leo! Give me a heart attack, why don'tcha?!"

"Sorry," the eldest turtle grinned. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"That's okay."

They sat quietly for a moment before Michelangelo asked the inevitable question.

"Why'd you come out here, Leo?"

"We were looking for you, Mike. Raph and Don are on their way, but they're both on the opposite end of the city."

"Didn't you get my note? I left one right there on the table."

"Yeah, we got it. Some…things just came up."

"What sort of things?"

Leo looked down at his hands and was surprised to find them shaking a little. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm himself.

"It's Karai…she's alive."

"No…" Mikey whispered, curling up even tighter. He began to shake violently and tears streamed down his face.

Leonardo's shoulders slumped slightly. He felt like bringing his youngest sibling such terrible news during his time of trial was just another of his recent failures. He braced himself. _I need to be strong for him. If I fail, at least he could stand._ A little awkwardly, he reached his arm around Mikey and pulled him up against his plastron. He was surprised at how cold his little brother was. Very slowly and carefully, Leo rocked back and forth, holding his brother and reflected that it had been many, many years since he had to comfort him.

"Shhhh," he whispered. "Shhhh. Everything will be alright."

"L-Leo?"

"Hm?"

"I'm scared, Leo." Michelangelo's voice was soft, making him seem much younger than his seventeen years.

"Why are you scared, Mikey?"

"She…she said stuff…bad stuff."

"Was it really so bad? She says 'bad stuff' all the time."

"I-it wasn't that."

"I thought you said it was."

"Well, it wasn't just that. When you were…_out_…she started trying to get Donnie to come too. She said that she was going to kill me first." Mikey's words were starting to spill out faster and faster as though a cork had popped out. "I hated her then. She must have seen it on my face 'cause then she kept saying things like didn't I love how the hate felt and stuff like that and then when I heard that Donnie had surrendered, I couldn't hope anymore and I was so scared! Leo, I was so scared!"

"Oh, Mikey." Leo held his brother tighter. "Don't worry. I won't let her get you. I'll keep you safe."

"That's not what scared me, bro."

"Then what did, Mikey?"

"What scared me is that she was right…it did feel good to hate her. I just kept feeling that that was the only thing that I could do and that it was the right thing to hate her."

"We've all hated Karai at least once, Mike. I mean, I hated her so much that I was completely moody for a couple of months, remember?"

Michelangelo chuckled weakly. "I remember. But I don't wanna go to Japan. Hawaii sounds better."

They both laughed quietly. However, the youngest turtle's mood swiftly fell back down.

"But Leo, it's the hate that scares me, not hating Karai. She was right. It felt so good, so _powerful_. It's almost like it was…" he searched for the right word, "intoxicating. I'm just afraid that if I feel it again, I'll do something bad and I dunno if I'd be able to stop. I don't want to hurt you guys or anything. I already hurt Donnie…"

"Donnie's fine, Mike. It wasn't your fault unless you count not cleaning your room again. And if you ever start acting all crazy or anything, we'll have Raph give you a bap on the head and then watch a monster movie marathon to make everything all better, okay?"

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the humans far below them.

"Hey Leo?"

"What?"

"Are _you_ alright? I mean, with Karai and all…"

"What do you mean, Mike?"

"You're doing the whole 'I'm Leonardo and anything that goes wrong is my fault and that means I need to keep practicing even though it really hurts me' thing again."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You didn't answer my question, Leo." Mikey sat back and gave his brother a glare.

"I'm just so sorry, Mike. Because of me, you guys got captured and hurt. Because of me, the Foot managed to get video footage of me and get it on TV and that's going to make it even harder for all of you guys. And," he whispered, "it's because of me that Karai is still alive. I couldn't kill her, even when she had done so much to hurt you. I just can't forgive myself for that."

Michelangelo leaned back up against Leonardo's plastron.

"If it makes you feel better, I forgive you, bro."

"Thanks, Mike."

They again fell into silence and watched as the clouds above slowly blocked out the stars above.

* * *

On a rooftop only ten minutes away, Raphael leapt down off of a water tower. He had been so relieved when he had gotten Leonardo's call that Michelangelo had been found. He took a cursory look around to check his bearings. The distance between the rooftop that he was on and the one he needed to get to was too great for him to just jump across, so he swung himself down the fire escape and into the alley below, landing as silently as a cat. 

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" a deep voice growled from behind the turtle.

Raphael spun around as a man the size of a baby elephant stepped out of the shadows. The turtle immediately whipped out his sai.

"Long time no see, Hun. What happened, got tired of getting' yer but handed to ya?"

The mountain's eyes narrowed in anger. "Get him, boys!"

Several dozen Purple Dragons came running out of one of the buildings. Each was wielding at least one laser blaster and many had other weapons as well. Raphael found himself quickly surrounded. He ducked under a blast that missed his head by only a couple of inches.

"Oh crud."

* * *

Donatello was having his own share of problems. For the last several minutes, he had been down at the docks, trying to elude the men pursuing him. They were carrying high-powered flashlights and Don suspected that a few of them probably had guns. As he hid behind a large pile of crates, he silently berated himself for slipping on a patch of black ice and crashing into three men who had been loading crates into a yacht—a yacht that was marked with the symbol of the Foot. The turtle listened intently, but did not hear footsteps or any sound that betrayed the presence of his pursuers. He decided to take a chance and see if they had somehow missed him. He lifted his head over the top of the boxes. 

"There he is!" "There's that murdering bastard!" "Get him!"

"Oh shell!" Donatello abandoned his hiding spot as it was riddled with bullets and ran towards the warehouses behind him. He yanked open a metal door and slid into the building. He leaned up against the door, panting heavily. He sighed, relieved, as he heard the men running passed the door. It was then that he noticed the squadron of Foot ninja all over the room that were staring at him in shock.

"Um, wrong door?" the turtle suggested weakly as he pulled out his bo staff.

* * *

Unaware of the plight of their brothers, Leonardo and Michelangelo were still on the roof, snuggled up next to each other. A light snow was beginning to fall. It was settling on the two turtle's shoulders. Michelangelo shivered violently. 

"Leo, I'm cold."

"Me too, Mike. I'll call the guys and tell them we're going to April's."

Leonardo stood up and pulled out his Shell Cell. About to dial, he turned around. A movement caught the corner of his eye. He looked up and gasped, dropping the phone. There was a sharp ringing as he withdrew his katana.

"Leo? You okay?"

"Mike, we've got a small problem."

Michelangelo turned halfway around and gulped at the sight before him. All four of the Foot Elite were there as well as a full squadron of Foot Tech. The orange-clad turtle gulped.

"I thought you said it was a _small_ problem."

* * *

_So there you have it. Please leave me a nice review. I can't promise I'll answer it this time, but I will do my best to write you back when I get back. Since where I'm going is warm, I'll let the flames warm up anyone who wants them! **:-)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm baaaaaack! I had a great vacation and now am sporting a sunburn on the one spot I missed with the sunscrean. Oh well, I still had fun. Thanks, everyone, for being so patient and for your wonderful reviews! Just so you all know, my semester is starting this Tuesday. I will do my best to keep posting regularly but unfortunately homework must come first. So aggravating...Well, enough about me! Time for the next chapter!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles.**

* * *

Several of the Foot ninja immediately dropped what they were doing and rushed towards Donatello. He yanked out his bo staff and twirled it expertly. The turtle, with his shell up against the door, blocked the blow of one of the ninja's katana while at the same time kicking another ninja in the gut. Don returned his full attention to the one with the katana. With a skilled twist of the staff, he sent the ninja's sword flying sideways. A well placed kick sent the ninja flying into three other Foot who were rapidly approaching. 

In the momentary gap between opponents, Donatello swung open the door and fled outside. Glancing around quickly, he spied a crowbar lying on top of a nearby crate. He snatched it up and jammed it through the door's handle. Not a moment later, the turtle heard the sound of grunting from inside as the Foot tried to open the door.

_That won't hold them for long,_ he thought. _I need to get out of here!_

Suddenly, a great light surrounded him. Donatello spun around, only to find the men who had been chasing him were running towards him at full speed, each with their flashlights trained on the giant turtle.

"There he is!" one was shouting. "I _knew_ I heard something back this way!"

"Oh great," Don muttered. "I don't have time for this."

Assessing his options in a flash, the purple-clad turtle noticed, to his chagrin, that the warehouse he was backed up against was isolated from the other warehouses by a great distance. It was much too far to warrant a rooftop escape – or at least not without getting shot. Choosing his other option, he darted around the corner of the warehouses and back towards the docks, deciding to lose his pursuers by diving into the water.

He ducked as gunfire sounded behind him. The bullet nicked the wall of the warehouse, spraying chips of cement into the air. There was another shot. The turtle felt a searing pain as the bullet grazed his calf. Stumbling forwards, Don barely managed to catch himself in time. One of them men was obviously a faster runner than the other two and tackled the turtle to the ground.

"Get the shell off of me!"

Donatello swung his staff around and bashed the man on the side of the head as the other two came running up.

"That settles it! You're going down, costumed freak!"

"No one caves in _my_ bud's head an' gets away with it!"

Don leapt up, wincing at the jarring of his injured leg. Before either of the men could do anything, the purple-clad turtle used his bo to knock them flat on their backs and then vaulted over them. To his great joy, he landed almost on top of a manhole cover. Quick as a flash, he pried it open and dropped down into the frigid water below.

_You're on _my_ turf now, you muscle bound thugs!_

Completely silent, he swung himself up among the pipes that ran along the ceiling and waited. He could hear the men approaching the open manhole.

"I ain't goin' down there!"

"Me neither. That damned thing could be right there waitin' fer us ta come after 'im. I don't want any part o' it!"

"Let's go. We lost it."

Donatello let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding as he heard his pursuers' footsteps become faint. Dropping back down with only the slightest hint of a splash, he flinched as his leg was again jarred. To make matters worse, the frigid water had managed to splash directly on the deep cut. He had been shot before, but that didn't make this time any less painful. Blood was trickling down in a steady stream. It was beginning to turn the water around him a sickening shade of red. He looked at his leg with a slight feeling of annoyance.

_Of course. The _one_ time I didn't bring my supply bag. I'll just have to go back to the Lair and get this patched up. I _really_ don't have time for it to get infected. Guess I'll just have to give the guys a call and let them know._

Using his bo as a crutch, he began to carry out his plan.

* * *

With the side of his foot, Leonardo pushed the Shell Cell into Michelangelo's hand. 

"Use that to signal emergency," he hissed. "Then I want you to get run as fast as you can away from here."

"But what are you going to do?"

Leo smiled grimly. "Make sure they don't follow you."

Mikey's eyes opened wide in horror as he realized his brother's plan.

"Nuh-uh. There's no way I'm leaving you here to fight all by yourself, no matter what you say!"

The oldest of the turtles groaned slightly, knowing how stubborn the youngest was.

"Okay. Raph and Don should be close by now, but if they aren't here after a few minutes, run."

"But I—"

"That's an order, Mike. Now get that phone! We don't have much time!"

The Foot had grown tired of waiting for the turtles to make the first move and were starting to run towards them with their various weapons drawn. Michelangelo scooped up the phone and slammed his thumb down on the 'emergency' button while leaping to his feet. Almost immediately, an invisible foot knocked the Shell Cell out of his hands. It went flying to the far edge of the roof. As fast as possible, the orange-clad swung his nunchuku towards the origin of the kick. His weapon did not strike flesh.

Meanwhile, Leonardo had his hands full with the four Elite. They had surrounded him and were raining down blows on him. The turtle blocked a blow from an ax, only to have the butt of a spear crash into his side, knocking him off balance. He tumbled sideways, landing on his shell. Immediately, he crossed his katana in front of him to block the blade that was swinging down towards his head. He kicked the Elite away and jumped back onto his feet. He ran towards the other three Elite. He quickly found that they were much easier to fight when they weren't surrounding him. One was quickly rendered unconscious and fell to the ground. However, there was no lull between their attacks and the turtle found himself again locking blades with the Elite's leader.

Michelangelo was having a much more difficult time while fighting the Foot Techs. They would flash in and out of invisibility as though they were taunting him. Suddenly hearing an electronic sound behind him, the turtle swung his weapon behind him as fast as he could. To his delight, his nunchuck smashed into the Foot Tech's badge, disabling its cloaking device. The enemy ninja flashed into sight, electricity sparkling all around its suit.

"Peek-a-boo!"

A huge smirk crossed over Mikey's face as he sent the Foot Tech flying. It crashed into the rooftop with a satisfying thud.

Leonardo landed next to his brother, panting slightly. His face was set impassively. In a far corner of the roof, the Foot Elite lay in a heap, unconscious or dead – Mikey wasn't about to ask which it was. The blue-clad turtle turned slightly towards his brother, opening his mouth to say something, but instead his eyes opened wide.

"DUCK!"

Michelangelo dropped to the ground, hearing the swish of a blade as it passed over his prostrate form.

"Geez, Leo, what'cha trying to do? Cut my head off?"

Before his brother could answer, a Foot Tech, with its sword raised above its head, flickered into view. The sword dropped down behind it and the enemy ninja crumpled to the ground. Michelangelo looked at his brother in amazement as Leo offered him a hand up. He took it.

"How the shell did you do that?"

"I can occasionally sense their Chi. It's a trick Master Splinter taught me," Leonardo explained as he helped his brother up. "Have you seen or heard from the others?"

"No," Michelangelo shook his head. "Nothing."

"Then it's time for you to go. Run, as fast as you can!"

"I'm not leaving you, Leo!"

"Look, Donnie, gave me something special for a scenario just like this. I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire. Please, Mike?"

He looked directly into his baby brother's eyes, pleading. The orange-clad turtle quickly turned his gaze away. He couldn't handle That Look very well.

"Okay, but if I don't hear from you in fifteen minutes, I'm coming to get you!"

"That's fair," Leo replied. He twirled around and locked his katana with an invisible blade. "Go!" he grunted.

Michelangelo turned and ran. He reached the edge of the roof and prepared to jump to the next rooftop. Allowing himself a moment, he turned his head to check on Leo. The eldest turtle seemed to be doing fine. Another Foot Tech fell, visible, before his twin blades. He turned towards Mikey and started violently.

"MIKEY! WATCH OUT!!"

"What's up—WOAH!!!"

Michelangelo felt an invisible force slam into his plastron, knocking him over the edge.

"NOOOO!!! MIIIIKEEEEEY!!!!"

Michelangelo fell down, headfirst towards the cement ground of the alley.

Falling…

Screaming and falling…

* * *

_Ducks under desk...no one hit me for the cliffie, OK? Please review. I know you're there. I can see the amount of hits that each chapter gets. Flames will be used to warm up my toes! Everything sure feels colder when you get back from someplace that was really warm..._

_And now in the tradition of my good friend Moogs, I will sign off in Tolkien's Elvish!_

_No galu govad gen! (May blessings go with you!)_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this finished. It looks like I won't have very much time to write this semester but I'll do my best to get a chapter up once a week. Thanks, everyone who reviewed. I love reading what you all have to say._** :-)**_ You may have noticed that I changed the rating of this story to 'T.' I did that simply for just in case, as there are several bits of swearing in the upcoming chapters._

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the plot.**

* * *

Raphael knocked a Purple Dragon in the face with the pummel of his sai. The gang member crumpled to the concrete. Without stopping, the turtle swung around and sliced through the pipe that another Dragon was getting ready to bash him on the head with. The shock on the gangster's face was quickly replaced with pain as he had a close and personal encounter with Raph's fist. 

Hearing a sound behind him, the hot-headed turtle turned only halfway before being thrown backwards by the impact of an enormous fist. He slammed into the brick wall and then dropped down onto all fours, gasping for breath. Hun advanced on him, stepping over the bodies that littered the alleyway. Raphael groaned as he stood back upon his feet. He was tired, but there was no way that he would run from a chance to kick the butt of the Shredder's one-time right-hand man. What's more, he intended to have fun while doing it. The few Purple Dragons that were left stepped back, allowing their leader through. They knew that this was his fight and they had no intention of getting in the way.

Hun suddenly started running towards the turtle at full speed, his fists ready for the strike. Raph stood perfectly still and waited. Right before the gargantuan reached him, Raphael dropped to the ground. Hun slammed his fist into the bricks as the turtle slid between his enemy's legs.

Raphael suddenly felt the vibrating of his Shell Cell in his belt as he ducked under a laser blast. It pulsed nine times, three short followed by three long and three short again. _The SOS, damnit! _

He kicked aside a blaster, just as the street thug pulled the trigger. The laser blast sent several Dragons flying to get out of its way. The momentary chaos provided just the distraction Raphael needed. He pulled a handful of little round balls out of his belt and threw them down on the ground as hard as he could. They burst open, releasing a thick, noxious smoke. The turtle turned and ran as Hun and the remaining Purple Dragons began to cough violently.

"GET…HIM!!!" Hun yelled through his coughing. His eyes were streaming as he rubbed at one, trying to block out the intense stinging.

Laser fire shot through the smoke. Several cries came from the Dragons as they were hit by their comrades' guns.

"Cease fire! Stop!"

The blasts stopped immediately. With a huge grin on his face, Raphael ran from where he had been watching the scene unfold. The grin was quickly replaced with worry as he wondered what had happened to his brothers. With a running jump, he landed lightly on the roof of a passing car and then promptly leapt back off on the other side of the street. He darted into the shadows and scaled a fire escape. Reaching the rooftop, he quickly checked his Shell Cell. The emergency signal was definitely coming from Leonardo's phone. Raph again began running towards where Leo had said he had found Michelangelo. He hoped nothing had happened to them.

Now far behind the turtle, a mountainous man stumbled forwards into the relatively clean air at the far end of the alley. Though still coughing and choking, he scanned the surrounding area for 'that blasted freak,' but saw no sign of him. Hun growled softly.

"Damn! What the hell is it with ninja and smoke bombs?"

* * *

Donatello had managed to slip back into the lair without Master Splinter noticing—a feat that rarely occurred. However, the turtle was glad that he had managed it. He didn't want his Sensei to worry. He still had every intention of going immediately back out and joining up with his brothers and then maybe going to April's for hot chocolate. He silently entered his lab and picked up a roll of bandages. With practiced precision, he cleaned and wrapped up his wound. 

All of a sudden, he felt the all too familiar pulsing of the emergency signal coming from his Shell Cell. Grabbing the device from his belt, he flicked it open. The readout on his screen quickly told him what he wanted to know. Leonardo – and most probably Michelangelo as well – was in trouble.

Don shoved the remaining bandages into his supply bag. The duffle was quickly slung over his shoulder as he ran from his lab and out into the sewers. If the emergency signal had come from himself or Michelangelo, even Raphael, the scientific turtle would not have been _as_ worried. However, coming from Leonardo meant that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

* * *

"MIIIKEEEEYYY!!!" 

Leonardo ran towards the edge of the roof, managing to duck under the blow of one Foot Tech and over the head of another. Before he could reach the edge, though, he suddenly went flying backwards. One of the Foot Tech caught him and threw him down—hard. Leo went rolling along the hard cement of the rooftop, losing one of his katana in the process. The turtle rolled up onto his hands and knees, shaking his head slightly, trying to make his vision clear. His injured shoulder was throbbing intensely.

Luckily, the snow that had started to fall was becoming heavier, slightly revealing the outline of each Foot Tech. As the turtle's Fearless Leader stood up, tightly grasping the hilt of his katana, he counted five Foot Tech-ninja coming towards him. Those, plus the two he and Michelangelo had taken down, added up to seven on the roof. _Shell! That means the other three went after Mikey!_

Again he went rushing towards the edge where his brother had fallen. Again he was blocked by the enemy ninja. To the Foot Tech's disadvantage, the snow was starting to pile up on the roof, revealing their every footstep. Fortunately for Leonardo, this made them easier to find and hit. Unfortunately, he forgot about their ability to leap over extreme distances with minimal effort. One moment one of the Foot Tech was on the opposite side of the roof and the next it was slamming into the turtle's plastron. Leo went sailing backwards. He landed right next to the katana he had dropped. Quickly grabbing hold of its tsuka, the turtle leapt back up to his feet. He quickly realized that the Foot Techs were attempting to keep him from reaching his brother. He was not going to let that happen. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You think you can stop me?" he muttered. "Have I got a surprise for you! Let's even the playing field."

He slid one of his katana back into its sheath. With his now free hand, he pulled a small, shurikin-like device from his belt. With all the force he could muster, he threw it down into the middle of the roof. A bright flash lit up the entire area as several lightening-like bolts shot from it and immediately directed themselves towards the Foot Tech. The mechanically-enhanced suits began to sputter and flash in and out of invisibility. The overload of the complex system was making it difficult for some of the ninja to even do so much as stand. As several of his enemies collapsed, Leonardo ran towards the edge of the roof and vaulted down onto a fire escape.

* * *

Michelangelo had managed to grab onto several clothes lines on his way down, slowing his fall but not completely breaking it. He landed on his back in a pile of trash bags, several of which burst underneath his sudden weight. He held perfectly still as several pieces of clothing fell down around and on top of him. Even though his shell had taken the brunt of the fall, he was still quite winded. After a moment, he rolled off of the refuse with a soft groan. A few things—he didn't want to know what they were—stuck to his shell and the back of his arms. 

Two footprints suddenly appeared in front of him and one of the invisible feet connected with his head. Mikey's head snapped back painfully.

The turtle fell onto his side, but quickly jumped up, swaying slightly. His head was spinning and felt as though a million hornets had been trapped inside his skull. Twirling his nunchucks, he slowly backed himself up against the wall of the brick building. His eyes darted around the dimly-lit alleyway, but he saw no one else there. _Too bad things usually aren't what they seem. Wish Donnie was here with those heat-vision goggle thingies._

His brief deliberation was cut short as something slammed into his plastron. He couldn't go back any further, so his chest took the full impact of the blow. His breaths were coming in gasps now and his head was spinning wildly. He just wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and wait for the pain to pass. He didn't realize that he had closed his eyes until he felt a strong hand clamp onto his shoulder as though it was trying to hold him in place. His sky-blue eyes flew open. Standing before him was a visible Foot Tech; its arm was pulled back, ready to punch.

All of a sudden, the enemy ninja was replaced with a flash of green, blue, and silver. Michelangelo breathed a painful sigh of relief as Leonardo stepped off of the downed Foot Tech.

"You okay bro?"

Mikey nodded and wiped away the trickle of blood that was forming along the corner of his mouth.

"Good." The blue-clad turtle suddenly knocked back by an unseen force. He immediately lunged forwards towards the source of the blow but encountered nothing.

Mikey heard a sound next to him and flailed out with his weapon. It collided with a satisfying sound of wood hitting flesh. A Foot Tech flickered into view and tumbled to the ground.

All of a sudden, an enormous weight landed on top of the youngest turtle. Mikey fell down, but the weight remained on his shell, pressing him down into the ground. There was a sharp pricking along the side of his neck.

Leonardo spun around at the sound of his brother's fall and his eyes opened wide with terror. Three Foot Tech were standing around his brother's prostrate form and another flashed into view, standing on Michelangelo's shell with its katana blade pressed up against the turtle's neck.

"Drop your weapons!"

Two katana clattered onto the cold cement. Two of the Foot Tech walked forwards and grabbed onto Leonardo's arms, pinning them behind his shell. The third walked forwards with a gleaming knife in its hands.

Michelangelo struggled for a moment under the weight of the ninja standing on his back but quickly stopped as the blade pressed more firmly against his neck, drawing blood.

"We bring you a message from our Mistress, turtle."

The knife plunged into Leonardo's stomach, in the exact same spot that he had thrown the knife into Karai. The turtle looked sadly at his horrified brother before becoming limp in the Foot Tech's arms.

* * *

_Please review!! Flames will be used to warm up my feet!_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thanks everyone who reviewed! You have now made this my most-reviewed fic ever! This upcoming chapter is mostly filler, but the value of it's contents will be made clear later. Thanks for being so patient!_

**Disclaimer: If I owned the turtles, they would probably be running around in circles while screaming in terror!**

* * *

"NOOOO! LEEEOOOO!!!" 

Michelangelo bucked the Foot Tech off of his shell, sending it flying into the brick wall. The Foot ninja sprung off of the bricks and leapt back towards the turtle. Mikey ducked, allowing it to sail over his head and tumble on the cement. The ninja jumped back up and turned angrily towards the turtle. The two ninja who had been holding Leonardo's arms lay him down on the ground and quickly advanced towards the orange-clad turtle. However, the one who had stabbed the katana-wielding turtle remained, standing over the limp form.

Now, three of the Foot Tech were surrounding Michelangelo. His nunchucks whirred softly as he stood there, his shell up against the wall. The enemy ninja each had their swords pointed at him. Suddenly, they all charged the turtle. Michelangelo dropped as a blade swished over his head and immediately had to roll to the right as another sword plunged into the space he had occupied less than a second before. However, the third ninja managed to catch him slightly on the arm and Mikey inhaled sharply at the sudden pain. The wound immediately started to let blood ooze down the turtle's arm.

Finding himself without enough room to maneuver, Mikey skillfully leaped up and over the ninja's heads. The Foot Tech again rushed at him. Michelangelo struck out with his nunchuku, knocking one back. Nonetheless, the other two again struck at him with their swords. He blocked one and dodged the other. As they fought on, the turtle found himself hard-pressed. Every time one would fall back, the remaining two would attack with even more strength. Soon, Mikey found himself again pressed up against the walls of the alleyway. The Foot Tech guarding Leonardo growled in impatience.

"Just kill it already. We need to get this one back to Mistress Karai."

"No," Michelangelo yelled. "You can't have him!"

He jumped up and, spinning around, knocked the three Foot Tech back. Before they could recover, he ran at the ninja that was standing over his brother. With one deft move, the ninja roughly yanked the tanto out of the turtle's stomach. Leonardo gasped in anguish. His body automatically curled up into the fetal position. The Foot Tech knelt over him with the knife, dripping with the turtle's blood, held to his neck.

"Stop there, turtle, or your brother will lose his head."

Michelangelo skidded to a halt, but his nunchucks began to spin even faster.

"I thought you needed to take him to Karai. I don't think she'd be too happy if he arrived without a head."

The Foot Tech shrugged, obviously smiling evilly under the blue mask. "We can just tell her that there was an 'accident.' Maybe he jumped in front of a blow meant for you."

Just then, the three other Foot Tech grabbed hold of Michelangelo's arms. The turtle struggled, unsuccessfully, against them.

"Looks like Mistress Karai will have the pleasure of his execution after all." The Foot Tech stood up, still holding the dripping knife.

"NOOOOO!!!"

The world went red in front of Michelangelo's eyes as his mind blanked and his body was taken by the rage that was flowing through him.

* * *

Donatello reached the rooftop a few minutes after Raphael. The red-clad turtle was leaning over the limp form of a Foot Elite, feeling for a pulse. Hearing his brother land behind him, Raph straightened up and turned to him abruptly, worry and anger glowing in his eyes. 

"Don, where are they?"

"I don't know, Raph. The signal from Leo's Shell Cell is coming from this roof. That corner, to be precise." He pointed to the other side of the roof.

Raphael ran over to where he had pointed and scooped up the abandoned cell phone. Donatello glanced around.

"Looks like they put up one shell of a fight. Ooh, and it looks like my sonic disrupter worked too!"

"Yeah, but where're they now?"

Before Donatello could answer, they heard a sound from one of the alleys below them. They both ran to the edge of the building and peered down into the darkness. Far below them, a dark, roundish form was crouched over something else. The sound of soft weeping drifted up to the two observers. Don glanced worriedly at his hot-headed brother, but Raphael had already leapt over the edge and onto the fire escape. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Donatello hurried after his brother.

Raphael ran to where Michelangelo was cradling something that he could not quite see. His brother's shell was in front of it.

"Mikey?" he ventured softly.

The orange-clad turtle's head spun around, startled. Tears were streaming from his eyes. "They hurt him, Raphie," he croaked. "They hurt him."

Raphael hurried up next to his baby brother, closely followed by Donatello. They could both see Leonardo, curled up as tightly as he could. He was covered in blood and his face was twisted up in excruciating pain. Mikey was gently stroking his oldest brother's head and in the process was smearing the droplets of blood across his brother's head.

"Let me see him, Mike. Where is he hurt the worst?" Donatello kneeled on the other side of his brother and quickly took charge.

"His stomach. They stabbed his stomach. They hurt him, Donnie! They HURT him!"

"Shhh, he'll be okay," Don whispered with more confidence than he felt. He shot a quick glance at Raphael. The second-oldest turtle acknowledged his brother's silent request with a curt nod. He wrapped his arm protectively around Michelangelo, feeling the still-warm blood and his brother flinch as his hand accidently brushed up against the cut.

"Come on, Mike. Let's give Don some room ta work on Leo."

"But—"

"But nothin'. You know Don when he's got ta do somethin'."

Michelangelo let Raphael help him up and pull him back a little, but he refused to go any farther than two feet. Raph sent a quick glance to Don.

"That's fine, Raph. Here," he pulled the Battle Shell's remote control from his belt. "You know the combination." With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it to his brother. Raphael caught it deftly and keyed in the sequence.

Very gently, Donatello uncurled Leonardo's body. He was appalled by the size and jaggedness of the wound. Leo's breaths were coming in short gasps. Analyzing the wound, Donatello's face grew more and more worried as each weak pulse of his brother's heart pumped out more and more blood. As carefully as he could, he rolled Leo onto his shell. Having the wound facing the sky seemed to reduce the amount of blood flowing out of it, for which the scientific turtle was grateful. Even so, some of the sticky, deep red liquid was still oozing up to the surface, seeming to hover along the edges of the stab. Don hurriedly reached into his supply bag and pulled out some gauze and bandages.

"It's a really deep wound, though luckily it doesn't seem like it went all the way through to his shell."

"Will…will he be okay, Donnie?" Mikey was trembling despite Raph's attempts to calm him down.

Donatello nodded his head in assurance as he applied pressure to his brother's wound and attached the bandages. "He'll live. He won't like having to stay lying down for several weeks, but he'll live."

"Oh good…" The orange-clad turtle swayed slightly and probably would have collapsed if Raphael hadn't yanked him back upright.

"Mikey! What's wrong?" he demanded.

His only answer was the slight shake of his brother's head. Before Raphael could question Michelangelo any further, the Battle Shell backed into the end of the alley. Donatello stood up, walked up to the back of the van, and opened up the back doors.

"Mike, why don't you go ahead and get in and then Raph can help me with Leo."

Michelangelo nodded, abnormally mutely, and walked away from Raphael to climb into the vehicle. He flopped down, almost like he was collapsing, into his favorite seat. Meanwhile, Donatello and Raphael kneeled down at Leonardo's head and feet.

"All right, really gently now," the purple-clad turtle instructed as he grabbed Leo's feet. "We can't let him sag between us."

They carefully lifted their oldest brother into the back of the van and then Raphael jumped back out to re-join Donatello. They talked quickly in low tones.

"Raph, I need for you to stay here for a second and keep an eye on Mike and Leo."

"Where're you goin', brainiac?"

"I need to find what stabbed him and bring it with us so that I can check it for poisons. Just in case."

Raphael nodded tersely and climbed back into the Battle Shell, closing the doors behind him. _He must be really worried, _Don realized grimly. _He hasn't tried to argue once._ As quickly as he could, the turtle swept his eyes around the alley, searching. His gaze alighted upon a black-bound handle that was sticking out from the far side of a dumpster. He hurried over to it and picked up the tanto, examining its blade. He could easily see the bloodstains that ran all along the blade. It had definitely been plunged deep into flesh. The turtle then looked up and his eyes widened in horror as he saw what else was behind the dumpster. With a small gulp, he hurried back to the Battle Shell and swung himself into the driver's seat, laying the long knife on the seat next to him.

* * *

_See, not TOO bad of a cliffie! So please review! Flames will be used to dry my socks out. _**:-)**


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: You guys are all so totally awesome! Well, this chapter is much more of a filler chapter than the last chapter, but again the information is important. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I've wanted to own them for a very long time, but sometimes dreams simply do not come true.**

* * *

After reaching the lair, Raphael and Donatello sent Michelangelo to find their master while they carefully carried Leonardo into Don's lab. They laid him gently down on the spare cot that Don sometimes used when he ended up staying the night in his favorite space. Leo moaned slightly. The scientific turtle's brows creased with worry as he checked his brother's bandages. They were soaked with blood. 

"I'm not going to lie to you, Raph. Mikey was right. Leo's very badly injured and I'm not sure how well he'll be able to recover."

"So what's that mean, 'xactly?" Raph was barely able to keep a trace of panic from creeping into his voice.

"It means that Leo will live, if there aren't complications, but he may have many serious problems with things like his digestive system even after he's regained his health. The tanto went right through his stomach and also probably nicked part of his intestines. I just don't have the skills to do a surgery on him in order to fix that. We're just going to have to hope that it can heal on its own."

He gently pulled the bandages off of his brother. The some of the blood had congealed along the edges, but the middle of the wound still glistened wetly.

"In addition, his prolonged unconsciousness is most likely due to his body going into a state of shock with the amount of blood that he lost. He may need at least one transfusion. I'm just hoping that it's not due to any poison on the blade." Don shook his head doubtfully. "I just don't know how much I'll be able to do," he confided.

"Jus' do what'cha can, Don. An' I'll help you with anything you need. Need blood? Here's m'arm. Heck, I'd give Leo my own stomach if I could. Just don't ever tell him I said that."

"Thanks." A small, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of Donatello's mouth. "I'm going to need some boiling water and clean cloth. This wound needs to be cleaned before infection has the opportunity to set in."

"I'm on it."

Just after the hot-headed turtle exited the lab, Master Splinter, closely followed by Michelangelo, hurried in.

"My son! Oh, my son! What happened?"

"Mikey?" Donatello looked at his brother expectantly.

With his head bowed and in a low voice, Michelangelo recounted the battle with the Foot Tech. He ended with the stabbing of his brother.

"And that is when you and Raphael arrived?" the rat turned to Donatello as the red-clad turtle re-entered with a pot full of steaming water and many cloths.

"Thanks, Raph." The scientific turtle took the equipment from his brother. "No, Master, we didn't arrive for a while after that."

"What happened next, Michelangelo?"

"Um…I made them let go of me and we ended up fighting. Then one of them started to threaten Leo." He stopped.

"And?" Donatello asked as he carefully cleaned Leonardo's wound.

"I…I don't remember…everything after that is just a blank."

"You don't remember nothin'?" Raphael exclaimed incredulously.

"Hmm," Splinter mused, stroking his beard. "We will deal with Michelangelo's lapse in memory later. In the meantime, how is Leonardo?"

"These first couple of hours will be crucial, but after that we should be able to tell for sure."

The rat walked over to his second youngest son and looked at his eldest's wound. "I will help you in this matter, Donatello."

As the next half-hour went by, Donatello tended Leonardo's wound under the expert guidance of Splinter while Raphael was kept busy boiling more water and rinsing out the soiled cloth bandages. Michelangelo, though, was momentarily forgotten. Without anyone noticing, he slipped away to his room, curled up in a corner, and cried.

With tears still streaming down his face, he glared at a lone action figure that was lying by his feet. Suddenly gripped with anger, he snatched up the toy and flung it across the room. As it hit the brick wall on the opposite side of the room, one of the arms became stuck in some of the loose mortar. Michelangelo dropped his arms and hands back onto the top of his knees. Just then, there was a soft knocking on his door, immediately followed by the soft padding of his Master's feet as the rat walked in.

"Is…is Leo going to…to die?"

"No, my son." The turtles' Sensei knelt down next to his son and gently hugged him. "He has stabilized very much and will probably awaken soon. Your brothers are both with him for now."

"Good." Mikey remained where he was without moving.

"You, too, are injured, my son," Splinter reminded him. "Not necessarily physically, but mentally. It is time for you to heal as well. We will start with some warm tea and then you must sleep. You are exhausted."

"Yes, Sensei," the youngest turtle agreed flatly. He really disliked warm tea.

* * *

"Anything?" Raphael asked from the side of Leonardo's cot as Donatello peered through a microscope at a chemical mixture. The scientific turtle had been analyzing the remains of his brother's blood that had clung to the tanto as well as the edge of the tanto itself. 

"Sort of. Not poison, at least, but it looks like there is a concentrated mix of haloperidol on this blade."

"Say what-a-doll?"

"Haloperidol. It's a powerful sedative. Guess they didn't want Leo giving them any trouble when they took him to Karai."

Leonardo groaned and his arm began to twitch. His entire body tensed up.

"Don! He's moving!"

The purple-clad turtle jumped up and ran to his brother's side. "Leo? Leo, can you hear me?"

The eyes behind the blue-bandana remained tightly closed. Suddenly, Leonardo's body went limp.

"DON! What's going on?!?"

Donatello placed his finger along Leonardo's neck and was relieved to find that his pulse was regular, though weak. His breathing was shallow but also consistent.

"I'm guessing a side effect of the haloperidol. It's been known to cause tremors in some cases."

"Damn that Karai," Raphael growled. "When I get my hands on her, I'm goin' ta—"

"You are going to do nothing, my son," Master Splinter reprimanded the hot-headed turtle as he walked in. "Your brothers need you here, not out where you would most likely also be injured.

Just then, Leonardo breathed in deeply and his eyes flickered open. They all hurried to his side. His dark, hazel eyes darted from one face to the other, as though he was searching for someone, while his mouth moved slightly even though no sound came out. With an understanding smile, Master Splinter gently rubbed the turtle's brow.

"Michelangelo is resting in his room. He is safe and well."

Leonardo smiled contentedly before closing his eyes again. Donatello again felt his brother's pulse.

"He's sleeping now. The drug is probably still in his system, so it may be a while before he awakens again."

"So we jus' wait 'round 'til he wakes up?"

"Pretty much, Raph. There's really not much else that we _can_ do."

"Then we shall wait," Splinter said, setting himself down on Donatello's wooden lab chair. "In the meantime, I have sensed that something is terribly wrong with Michelangelo's spirit. There is an intensity and anger that I have never seen in him before. It is even greater than that which you frequently feel, Raphael."

One of the red-clad turtle's eyeridges cocked up in slight disbelief as he sat down on the cot next to his brother.

"He's right, Raph." Donatello sat down cross-legged next to the cot.

"Yes, you know more about this than you are telling. Isn't that so, my son." Splinter's tone indicated that it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, Master," Donatello admitted. "I know what Mike did that he doesn't remember."

* * *

_Even with a filler chapter, I can't avoid cliffhangers! Of course, I can't give you the next chapter unless I get reviews! Flames will be used on one of my text books!_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: You guys are all seriously awesome! Thanks for the reviews!_

* * *

A HUGE thanks to Moogs who has agreed to be my beta! Thanks! You're a lifesaver! **:-)**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles.**

* * *

"…and after I picked up the tanto, I looked up and saw _it._" Donatello shuddered slightly.

"Go on," Splinter prodded gently.

"It was a pile of bodies, of Foot Tech. They were all dead."

"So? So Mike killed 'em. No big deal." Raphael rolled his eyes at what he obviously considered an overreaction on the part of his brother.

"It's not that they were dead, Raph," the purple-clad turtle explained with a sigh. "It's how they died. Normally if Mikey is forced to kill, the only mark left on the body will be some bruising along either the trachea or part of the skull. Sometimes these might be marks on the face, but not very often. These bodies, though, were all missing their masks and their faces were all bashed completely in. Not only that, but there were multiple lacerations on the bodies that had obviously been inflicted _after_ death. Michelangelo not only killed those Foot as cruelly as possible with his nunchucks, but also used the ninja's own swords to keep destroying them, probably until something made him snap out of whatever mindset he was in."

"But you think _Mike_ did that, Don? Come on. We all know that ain't somthin' he'd do!"

"He also wouldn't snap at me and Leo and then run out of the lair without telling anyone," Donatello reminded his brother quietly. "But he did."

"You brother is very troubled by Leonardo being injured. He feels that he is at fault for what happened," their master informed them. "I shall meditate on this matter to decide what must be done, but in the meantime you two must get some rest. It is already past midnight."

"But Sensei," Don protested, "I need to watch Leo and make sure that he'll be alright through the night!"

"Yeah, me too, Sensei! 'Sides, we aren't even tired yet!" Raphael glared at Donatello, daring him to disagree.

Master Splinter smiled at the protectiveness of the two brothers. "Your spirits are much more tired than you realize, my sons. Plus, you are injured, Donatello, and must rest so that you can heal. I shall stay with Leonardo. Bed. Now!" The rat pointed towards the door.

"Yes, Master," the two turtles grumbled simultaneously.

Raphael stood up, offered a hand to Donatello, and pulled him up. They shuffled slowly out of the room. Master Splinter's ears followed the sound of their almost silent footsteps as they walked towards their rooms. A moment later, he smiled knowingly.

"My sons, I have found that the best place to search for a bed is in a bedroom. Now I suggest that you look in your own immediately."

Two groans sounded from just outside the door and the grin on Splinter's face widened as he heard his sons enter their rooms and close the doors behind them.

* * *

Michelangelo rolled over, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Behind his closed lids, his pupils darted around wildly as he took in his dream. His arms and legs thrashed as though he was trying to fend off some diabolical monster.

"No! Please stop!" he moaned without waking. "Stop! Please!"

_Michelangelo found himself back in an all-too-familiar alleyway. Hordes of Foot Tech were surrounding the lifeless body of his oldest brother. He was there also, but somehow the turtle standing there spinning nunchuku was not quite him. There was something wrong with the face, but the dreaming turtle could not wholly figure out what it was. It almost seemed like he—or it, Michelangelo wasn't exactly what to call his dream self—was extremely angry. It was strange to see himself from this angle, outside of his own body. Michelangelo watched as the ninja rushed towards his dream self. He somehow knew that he _needed _to get away from there. He tried to run, but his legs refused to move. He tried to cry out, but could not find his voice. _

_The horde of enemies condensed into only four Foot Tech, yet the dream Michelangelo only seemed to grow even angrier. Mikey was forced to watch as his dream self easily and mercilessly destroyed the Foot, all the while laughing crazily. When one fell, his dream self continuously smashed at the ninja's face until another Foot Tech jumped him. One after another, the Foot fell before the enraged turtle. The last ninja dropped its katana with a sharp 'clang' as its owner fell. Then, to Michelangelo's shock, the other him reached down and picked up the blade. _

"_No," he croaked. "Not that…not _that_!"_

_With a sharp slice, the sword slid easily into the dead body. Soon, there were slices across all of the bodies lying there. The dream turtle turned at last to the one body that he had not yet marked with the sword. The katana was lifted high into the air, ready for a fatal down-stroke._

"_GET AWAY FROM HIM!!"_

_Michelangelo suddenly found that his legs could move again and he ran towards his dream self. Instead of colliding, he phased into the body that was still holding the sword high above his head. In absolute horror, he looked down at his brother and dropped the sword behind him. Falling to his knees, Mikey began to shake, appalled at what he had done and had almost done. He stared down at the blood that was splattered across his hands. The spots just seemed to get bigger…and bigger…and bigger…_

With a start, Michelangelo sat bolt upright in his bed, panting slightly. He glanced down at his hands, almost expecting to see the blood still covering his palms. He was still shaking. Breathing in and out slowly, he tried to calm himself. However, in his mind's eye he could see red droplets beginning to materialize on his hands. He tore his eyes away and glanced towards the clock on his nightstand. It read 3:42. The turtle reached over and snatched up his orange bandana. Small brown specks marked where it had been splattered with blood.

"What have I done?"

In a rush, he threw off his covers and leapt up off of his bed.

* * *

Master Splinter was startled out of meditation at the sudden entrance of Michelangelo into the lab. His youngest son had obviously not seen him sitting perfectly still in the chair in the corner. He decided that it would be best to just wait and watch.

The orange-clad turtle walked slowly over to where his brother was lying. He stood, staring down at Leonardo's bandages, all the while clenching his hands into tight fists.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I never wanted you to get hurt. I never wanted this…I'm sorry."

Silently, the ancient rat stood up and came up behind him. Very gently, he laid one paw on his son's shoulder. Michelangelo spun around, terror filling his eyes. His hands automatically reached into his belt and grabbed his nunchuku. As soon as he realized who it was, he relaxed. His shoulders slumped and he fell to his knees before his master. Tears streamed down from under the orange mask. Master Splinter held his sobbing son tightly to him. After a few minutes, Mikey began to calm back down, taking comfort in the familiarity of his adopted father's warm, soft fur.

"What is troubling you, my son?" Splinter gently stroked Michelangelo's smooth, green head.

"I _remembered_, Sensei! I can't _believe_ that I did that!" He shuddered violently.

"It is alright, Michelangelo. You and your brothers are safe. That is what matters."

"You don't get it, Master." The turtle lifted his head and looked tearfully over to his brother. "I almost hurt him. If something hadn't stopped me, I would've probably killed him."

This news shocked Splinter. For a moment, he was unsure how to comfort his son. The rat breathed in and out slowly.

"Michelangelo, regardless of what you _might_ have done, you chose the right path in the end."

"But what if I hadn't, Sensei? What if I hadn't stopped and 'chosen the right path'?"

The rat smiled slightly and kneeled with his son. "A wise man once said that life is ten percent what you make it, and ninety percent how you take it."

"Huh?"

"You _almost_ hurt your brother, but you did not. That is in the past. Leonardo will heal. Now you must think about how you are going to let _your_ spirit heal."

"I…I don't know how."

"Your brothers and I will help you, my son. It is not something you have to do alone."

"But what if I hurt one of you guys or come back and hurt Leo?"

"We will help you control any such emotions, but you will have to let us know if you are feeling as though you will lose control."

"Okay…"

"Now," Splinter helped his young pupil up, "let us get you back to bed."

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_Now that wasn't too bad of a cliffie, was it? Please review! Flames will be used to encourage me to do my homework..._


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Sorry this took a bit to get up. Had to finish my English paper before I could write this chapter.  
Thank you, everyone who reviewed! This fic marks the first time I've ever reached the 100 review mark, so thanks SO much! You are all really sweet. Also, a huge thanks to Moogs for betaing this for me! _**:-)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned the turtles, you would be watching this on TV right now. **

* * *

A soft sound made Master Splinter suddenly snap out of a light doze. The rat's eyes flew open and were met with the gaze of his eldest son. Leonardo was sitting upright, clutching a hand to the bandages on his stomach. His entire body was shaking slightly.

"Sorry…I didn't…mean…to wake…you up," the turtle gasped out painfully.

"My son," Splinter rushed to Leonardo's side, "you should not be upright. Let us get you back into a much safer position. You could injure yourself further."

"I…can't. Feels…like millions of bugs…inside of me…Need to move."

"You are not well enough to move right now, Leonardo."

"But Sensei--"

"My son, the nature of your injury is more severe than you realize." The rat looked at his son and sadly noted the dull, pain-filled look of the normally vibrant hazel eyes. "I will see if Donatello has any medicine that will help."

"Don't wake him up," Leo begged. "I'll…be fine."

"He is already up," Splinter replied, smelling the faintly bitter scent of coffee that was filling the lair. "I will go and retrieve Donatello."

Just then, the turtle in question walked into his laboratory, cradling a steaming cup of coffee as well as a bowl filled with a caramel-colored liquid.

"'Morning, Sensei. 'Morning, Leo. How are you feeling?"

"Been better." The injured turtle smiled wanly.

"I brought you some beef broth. You won't be able to eat solid foods for a while, but at least this has protein and will help your hydration levels go up. Here." He handed the bowl to his brother. "You'll have to eat very carefully. Stop if it hurts."

As Leonardo began to slowly spoon the liquid into his mouth, Splinter took Donatello over to the side of the room and quickly explained the bug-like feeling that the eldest turtle had been complaining of.

"That is a side effect of the haloperidol. There have been many reported cases where patients have complained of the feeling of chemical torture as it passes through their bodies."

"Your brother is also in a lot of pain from his injury," Master Splinter added.

"Oh, stupid!" The scientific turtle slapped himself on the forehead. "I didn't even think of pain killers. I have morphine and aspirin on hand, but neither of them would be safe to give to him. Morphine has a high toxicity rate when combined with other sedatives and aspirin is known for the ill effects on the stomach. Acetaminophen would be safe to give to him, but he'll have to take several over the day and 

I'll need to monitor him in case of overdose." Don pulled open a drawer in his workbench and grabbed a bottle. He flipped off the lid and poured out a couple of pills.

"Then that is what we shall do," the turtles' Sensei agreed, glancing over to Leonardo.

The blue-banded turtle had managed to get about four spoonfuls of the broth down but was now just staring at the bowl that he held in one hand. The other hand was pressed tightly to his plastron. Donatello walked over to him, took the bowl from his hands, and set it on the workbench.

"How did that feel?"

Leonardo answered with a grimace and lay back onto his shell. "Have I mentioned I hate being stabbed?"

The purple-clad turtle smiled slightly. "Here, swallow these. Would you like some water?"

Leo shook his head negatively and took the pills from his brother's hand.

"Are Raphael and Michelangelo up yet?" the rat asked.

Donatello shook his head slightly. "If they are, they hadn't come out of their rooms before I came in here."

"Hmm, I see. I believe I will give you the morning off so that you can stay with Leonardo. Plus, it will give you a chance to rest your injury."

"Sure, Sensei."

"In the meantime, I need to go and find your brothers. With Karai still in control of the Foot, we cannot afford to neglect your training."

"I'll be fine, really," Leonardo insisted, overhearing the conversation. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll be right there."

Donatello and Splinter shared a knowing look. "You must rest, my son. The best way that you can help your brothers right now is by allowing your body to heal."

"And I'm going to make sure that you do that." Don sat down in his lab chair. "Don't even _think_ about getting up."

Leonardo sighed, defeated. "Okay, but how long will it be before I can get up again?"

"You can probably get up on your own by the end of the week, but no training for at least two weeks."

"But Don—"

"Do not argue, Leonardo," Master Splinter interrupted. "In the meantime, we shall work on your mental exercises. However, you must rest for now." The rat walked out of Donatello's laboratory and the two turtles soon heard the harsh sounds of an attempt to wake Raphael.

"You're hurt, Don?"

"It's nothing, just enough to draw some blood. I'll be fine in a couple of days, just have to keep it bandaged so it doesn't get infected."

"Does it hurt badly?"

"Not really. Just enough to be annoying."

There was a crash followed by irate grumbling from the second oldest turtle. Shaking his head and chuckling, Donatello flicked on a small television that sat on his desk, not wanting to explain the wound any further. "It's for when Mike and Raph are fighting over the remote again," he explained briefly.

Leo chuckled softly, seemingly satisfied, and then stared at the screen with a glossed-over look in his eyes. Don smiled a bit, glad that he had made his brother feel a little better, and turned his attention to the tweaking of a new gadget. From out in the dojo, sounds of practicing floated into his earholes. After about fifteen minutes, Leonardo gasped and Donatello spun around, slightly panicked. The eldest turtle was staring intently at the screen.

"Turn it up a bit, Don."

As the volume was raised, Donatello paled.

…_and in related news, another sighting of the would-be assassin that police have labeled as 'Goblin-man' occurred in central Manhattan early this morning. An amateur videographer, and we stress the _amateur_, captured this footage._

The fuzzy image on the screen had obviously been taken from a very high angle and showed Donatello quickly walking towards the Battle Shell with the tanto clutched tightly in his hand.

_Once again, this is the assassin that—_BLIP! Donatello turned off the television and exchanged a worried look with Leonardo.

"I'll go tell Master Splinter if you promise to not move."

"Agreed."

Donatello leapt up and ran out of the room. Michelangelo and Raphael were heavily engaged in weapons training while Master Splinter stood to the side of the dojo, watching them. As the rat spied his second-youngest son approaching, he held up his hand.

"Unless it involves the immediate health of Leonardo or we are all in immediate danger, hold. Something is the matter with Michelangelo, but I am not sure what it is just yet."

The purple-clad turtle bowed respectfully and joined his master's observation of the match. Splinter was correct, something just wasn't right. Michelangelo was spinning and kicking out with an intensity that Donatello had never seen in his younger brother before. Mike wasn't taunting Raphael at all. In fact, the sai-wielding turtle was finding himself hard-pressed. _He's good—scary good,_ Don thought to himself. _Wait, something's wrong!_

Just then, Raphael was coming to the same conclusion. Michelangelo struck out with his nunchucks and both of the red-bound sai went flying across the dojo.

"Hold!" Master Splinter yelled, but the youngest turtle didn't seem to hear. He kept striking at his brother, somehow managing to consistently get past Raphael's defenses. Raphael leapt out of his 

brother's range, but the orange-clad turtle continued to run towards him with speed that was even uncharacteristic for the normally hyperactive Michelangelo.

"Michelangelo! Hold!" Splinter yelled again, but with the same outcome.

Raphael fell backwards, tripped by his brother's foot catching on his leg.

"MIKEY! WHAT THE SHELL DO YOU THINK YER DOIN'?"

As Michelangelo raised his arm for a finishing blow and Raphael raised his arm to protect his head, Donatello ran out onto the floor. He grabbed Mikey's arms, preventing him from striking. Master Splinter followed his second-youngest son quickly and stood in between Michelangelo and Raphael.

"MICHELANGELO! ENOUGH!"

The orange-banded turtle's eyes seemed to clear and he looked with horror at his toughest brother, lying on the ground, defenseless. His hands released their steel grip on his nunchucks and he began to shake. Donatello carefully released his baby brother's wrists and Michelangelo's arms slowly lowered.

"What have I done?" he exhaled voicelessly. "What have I done?!" His voice rose into an almost hysterical scream. Before anyone could stop him, he ran to his room and slammed the door behind him.

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_Please review! You know you want to! Flames will be used to help kick this cold out of me. _**:-)**


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thank you all so much! You're all really sweet. _**:-) **_Also, thanks again, Moogs, for betaing this for me!_

**Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles or Star Trek. I do have this really cool flute that looks like a turtle, though! ;-)**

* * *

"Are you alright, Raphael?" Master Splinter asked as he helped his second-oldest son up. 

"Yeah," the red-clad turtle grunted, rubbing his bruised head.

As soon as he heard his brother's reply, Donatello went running after Michelangelo, the news report momentarily forgotten. As he passed his laboratory, he spotted Leonardo, trying awkwardly and unsteadily to step backwards into the shadows so that his brother would not see him.

"Leo! What the shell do you think you're doing?" Donatello darted at him, catching him as he wavered slightly. "You _promised_!" His voice sounded hurt.

"I'm sorry, Don." Leo allowed his brother to lay him back on the cot. "I thought something happened and one of you might have gotten hurt."

"Leo," Donatello replied a bit testily, "we know how to fight and take care of ourselves. You need to stop hurting yourself on our account."

"I'm not hurt, really."

"Leo," the purple-clad turtle sighed and shook his head. "You're bleeding again."

"It will stop in a moment," Leonardo insisted. "Go check on Mikey."

"I'm not leaving this room again until either Master Splinter or Raph are here to make _sure_ that you don't get up again."

"But—"

"Zip it, Leo," Donatello snapped a little harsher than he had intended as he quickly replaced the bandages. "You are notoriously the worst patient out of all of us and—"

"Don," the injured turtle tried to interrupt his brother's lecture without success.

"No, you're going to listen, Leo. Just because you're our leader doesn't mean that you're exempt from staying safe and getting well. It doesn't mean that—"

"DON!" Leonardo interrupted again, more forcefully. "You don't know what happened up on that rooftop. Mike really needs you right now. He's closer to you than anyone else and he's hurting, bad."

"But Leo—"

"Donnie," the blue-clad turtle fixed his eyes on his second youngest brother, practically pleading with him. "My body is injured, but bodies can heal by themselves. His spirit is badly wounded and without help, it will always remain that way. He's afraid, Don. I could see it in his eyes when he ran past." Leonardo closed his eyes, exhausted from his exertion. "He's so afraid."

Donatello glanced at the doorway, torn about what to do. The appearance of both Raphael and Master Splinter quickly made up his mind for him.

* * *

Michelangelo was curled up in the space under his bed, shaking badly. He longed for the tears to flow from his eyes, but they refused to come. He longed to just disappear or maybe throw himself into a black hole like he had seen on Star Trek. _How could I have hurt Raph? How could I have done _that_?! What's wrong with me?_

His door creaked as it was swung open. Michelangelo held as still as he could, desperately wishing to not be found.

"Mikey?" Donatello's voice called. "Mikey? Where are you?"

The hidden turtle remained silent as the soft padding of his brother's feet drew closer to the bed. Mikey almost jumped out of his shell when Donatello's face suddenly appeared under his bed. Don was smiling softly.

"Is there room for me under there?"

"Not r-really." Michelangelo's voice caught as he began to shake again, refusing to look his brother in the face.

"Then why don't you come out here?"

The orange-clad turtle shook his head and remained where he was.

"You know I'm not leaving until you come out." Donatello sat down on the floor next to the bed.

"M'kay."

They stayed silent for a minute.

"Donnie? Is Raph okay?"

"He's fine, Mikey," Donatello assured his brother softly. "He's been in worse fights with Leo before."

"But I-I almost killed him!"

"No you didn't, Mike. You gave him a good beating, but you didn't almost kill him."

"But I wanted to, Donnie." The tears were starting to flow now. "I _wanted_ to. How could I want to kill my own bro?"

"Oh, Mike." Donatello pushed an action figure out of the way and then lay down on his stomach so that he could see his baby brother. "Mikey, it's all right. Everything is all right."

"I'm not all right, Don…When we were fighting, I wasn't seeing Raph there. I was seeing a Foot Tech."

Donatello tried to smile as gently as he could to reassure and comfort Michelangelo. "You were in a stressful situation. It happens. Remember, Raph's done the same thing to you in the past."

"But that was _Raph_. He's always doing stuff like that."

Donatello didn't say anything. He couldn't come up with any sort of comeback for his brother's point. Uncomfortable with his brother's sudden silence, Michelangelo scooted closer to the edge of the bed.

"Is Raph mad at me?"

A grin spread across Donatello's face. "Is Raph ever not mad at everything and everyone in the entire world? If you mean is he more mad than normal, no."

The grin was apparently contagious, since it spread across the youngest turtle's face as well. But in a moment, it was gone again, replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. Don sat up as Mikey crawled out from under the bed. The orange-clad turtle blinked back a couple of tears that were threatening to fall as he sat next to his brother.

"Donnie, please don't ever leave me!"

"Mikey, I'm your brother," Donatello calmed him, wondering what had brought on this sudden, seemingly random outburst. "I would never, ever leave you. Like it or not, you're stuck with me."

"Good." Michelangelo breathed in and out deeply. "I'm sorry, Donnie."

"What for?" The scientific turtle found himself even more confused.

"I just wanted to tell you that," Mikey hedged. "I thought you should know."

"No matter what you have ever done or ever will do, you know we'll all still love you, right Mike?"

The youngest turtle nodded his head slightly. "I'm just going to stay in here today, 'k?"

"That's fine, Mike." Donatello gave him a small hug. "Yell if you need anything." He got up and walked towards the door, pausing to look back at Michelangelo. "You sure you want to stay in here?"

"Yeah." As his brother left, Michelangelo pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. _I don't want to hurt you guys or any more of you get hurt because of me._

He remained in that position for a while, seriously considering an option that, to him, seemed like the only course of action. At last, he steeled himself and made ready to carry out his plan.

_I'm really sorry, Donnie. I'm sorry, everyone. Please forgive me for doing this, but it's the only way that you guys will all be safe._

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The rest of the day went slowly for the rest of the small family. Donatello and Master Splinter took care of Leonardo and Raphael's injuries. All the movement had put a great strain on the wound in Leo's plastron, so he was now being very careful to hold still. It wasn't long before he fell asleep. The moment that his brother's eyes drifted closed, Don told Master Splinter about the newscast. 

A worried look crossed the old rat's face. "I believe that it will be best if none of you go to the surface until this has all blown over."

"But Sensei!" Raphael spun around, wincing as his movements pulled on his aching bruises. "What about Karai? What about all the crimes we stop every night on patrol?"

Master Splinter shook his head with a sad smile. "There was crime long before you were ever hatched and there will be crime long after we have all turned to dust. The world can live without you for a while."

"But—"

"Absolutely no trips to the surface, Raphael." Splinter glared at his second oldest son sternly. "I must meditate on this further. I trust you will stay with Leonardo?" He turned to Donatello.

"Yes, Sensei."

"Good. I will be in my room." Leaning heavily on his walking stick, he walked out.

"Well this is just great." Raphael slammed his fist down on Donatello's workbench.

"Just look at it like a vacation. Now hold still for a sec while I get this last bandage on." The scientific turtle spread the bandage across the darkening bruise on his brother's head.

The moment that he was done, Raphael stormed out of the room and into the dojo. As Don slumped into his newly vacated chair, he could hear the sounds of Raphael mercilessly beating his punching bag. Turning his attention to one of his projects, he worked until the sounds from the dojo stopped. With a sigh, Donatello got up and stuck his head out to check on his hot-headed brother, hoping fervently that Raph wasn't trying to sneak out of the lair. To his relief, his hot-headed brother was collapsed on the couch in front of the entertainment unit, watching some talk-show rerun.

Smiling slightly, Donatello returned to his workbench. He ended up staying there for the rest of the day, engrossed in adjusting the mechanics of his device. Finally, late at night, his eyelids began to droop and he fell asleep at his workbench.

Shortly after one o'clock that night, a splash cut through Donatello's dreams. He woke up, startled. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glanced over at where Leonardo was lying sound asleep on the cot. Shaking his head slightly, the purple-clad turtle stood up and walked sluggishly out of the room as he tried to figure out what had awakened him. From the entrance to the lab, he could see out into the dimly lit dojo. _Something's wrong with the pond,_ he thought, looking at the water feature that remained from the lair's days as a water treatment plant. _The water's all wobbly-looking._

Suddenly, he realized exactly what that meant and he ran as fast as he could towards the water. As he drew closer, he could see the top part of a shell slowly sinking down beneath the small waves.

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_GAAAAA! Another cliffie! Please review! Flames will be used to help me write this English Lit. paper!_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Hi, everyone. Sorry this took so long. Life decided that Midterms would be a good time to explode on me. Needless to say, these past two weeks have been very hectic. Anyway, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Also, some of you may have noticed that the summary now says 'Second of the Holiday Trilogy.' This is the last chapter and will be followed by an epilogue that should be up in a day or two. Then the story is moving on to Broken Shells. Enjoy! _

_Huge thanks to Moogs for betaing this!_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...sad really **

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Without a moment's hesitation, Donatello dove into the icy water. His brother had already sank down a considerable distance. Powerful strokes propelled him towards the form that was starting to disappear from his line of sight in the darkness. At last, he managed to grab onto the limp form of his brother and started to try to swim back towards the surface. However, the frigid water had done its work well. Don found himself struggling to have enough energy to swim by himself, much less with an unconscious brother in tow. His chest was burning as his body begged for air. _I'm not going to make it!_

Suddenly, another dark form joined him in the water and grabbed his brother's other arm. Both of the rescuers kicked towards the surface. At last, they broke through the surface and Donatello gulped lungfuls of oxygen. Reaching the side, Raphael and Donatello pulled Michelangelo's limp body from the water. Immediately, Raphael started giving his youngest brother mouth-to-mouth resuscitation while Donatello coughed up the water that he had swallowed.

"Come on, Mike," Raphael grunted as he pressed on his brother's plastron. "Breathe!"

After a moment, Michelangelo started choke violently and water flowed from his mouth. Before either of his brothers could stop him, the orange-clad turtle rolled over onto his hands and knees and continued spewing water. Donatello gently rubbed his brother's shell.

Master Splinter ran quickly from his room at the sound of all the commotion. "What is going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" Raphael burst. "What the shell is goin' on?"

Before anyone could answer, the orange-clad turtle glanced weakly at both of his brothers and the collapsed, unconscious, into Donatello. The turtle was barely able to catch his brother without being knocked over himself.

"Mikey!" "My son!"

Raphael and Master Splinter both grabbed onto the youngest's shell and rolled him gently onto his back. His hands trembling, Donatello searched frantically for a pulse on his brother's neck. For one heart-wrenching moment, he felt nothing. At last, his finger felt the pulsing along the carotid artery. With a sigh of relief, Don sat back.

"He's alive, just really cold. Many of his less essential bodily functions have shut down to conserve energy—like a form of hibernation."

"But he'll wake up, right?" Raphael could not keep his concern out of his voice.

"Yes." Donatello looked down at his baby brother. "He'll wake up when he warms up."

"Let us carry your brother to the sofa so that we may revive him. And then I expect a complete explanation."

"Yes, Master," the two turtles chorused.

With minimal effort, Raphael lifted up his youngest brother and carried him to the sofa. After setting him down, the red-clad turtle gently pulled a blanket over his brother. Seeing that Donatello and Master Splinter had hurried to the kitchen, Raphael roughly yanked over a chair and sat backwards in it, facing the limp form on the couch.

"Why'd you go an' do that, Mike?" he whispered, blinking back a tear that was threatening to form.

Before he could say anything else, his brother and Sensei came back in, carrying hot water bottles, a pot full of warm water, and several cloths. After dipping one of the cloths in the hot water, Splinter laid it across his son's forehead while Don lifted up the bottom of the blanket and placed the hot water bottle by his brother's feet.

"Now," the rat looked at both of his conscious sons, "I expect a full explanation."

Briefly, Donatello and Raphael recounted all that had happened.

"I see." Master Splinter's face was very grave as they finished. Absentmindedly, his fingers began to comb through his beard. "Michelangelo is much more troubled that I had previously imagined." The old rat sighed tiredly. "I sense so much fear in him. So much fear and so much darkness."

Donatello felt the cloth on his brother's forehead and, finding it cold, replaced it with a warm one. Involuntarily, he shivered violently.

"Donatello. Are you alright?"

"Just a bit cold myself, I guess. I'll be fine in a couple of moments. Really." He smiled wanly. "If Raph hadn't come when he had, both Mikey and I would probably be at the bottom of the pond right now. I don't think I'll underestimate the power cold has on us anymore."

Raphael stood up, grabbed his brother by the shoulders, and made him sit down on the freshly vacated chair. Quickly snatching a large, unused towel from the pile that they had brought for Michelangelo, he wrapped it around his second youngest brother's shoulders. "There's no way I'm goin' to lose you both an' I'm not lettin' you get sick neither."

"Thanks, Raph." Donatello smiled gently at his brother.

Just then, Michelangelo started to groan and tossed his head back and forth as though he was having a nightmare. His eyes flew open.

"Where…where am I?"

"Don't you EVER do that again!"

"Raphael!" Master Splinter snapped, hitting his second oldest on the head with his walking stick. "Calm yourself! Now, my son," he turned to Michelangelo, sadness filling his eyes. "What troubles your heart so much that you would do this to yourself?"

His eyes wide in confusion, Michelangelo shrunk back into the cushions of the couch.

"What did I do?" He winced at the pain speaking had on his vocal chords. They felt like they, as well as his lungs, were on fire.

"You ONLY tried to kill yourself!"

"W-what?"

"Mikey, Raph and I had to fish you out of the pond. You were drowning. We almost lost you." Donatello's voice was soft and he could barely look at his only younger brother.

"Is that why…that's why I'm like this?"

"Don't you remember, Mike?"

The orange-clad turtle shook his head slowly. Splinter sat on the edge of the couch next to him and stared intently into his son's brilliantly blue eyes. _There is something here that we do not know…but my son does not know of it either._

"You tell the truth. What is the last thing you remember?"

Michelangelo thought for a moment. At last he answered. "Donnie leaving my room after I crawled out from under my bed. Then everything is blank."

"But that was over five hours ago," Donatello protested. "You don't remember any of it?"

"No, I don't." The youngest looked tired and weak. "What's happening to me, guys?"

"I don't know, Mikey, but you can be sure we'll do everything to find out."

Michelangelo began to shake slightly. "I'm scared."

"It will be alright, my son." Master Splinter pulled the young turtle close and held him tightly.

The enormity of what he had tried to do suddenly came down hard on Mikey. He sobbed violently, clutching his adopted father tightly, tears running down his face.

Donatello and Raphael exchanged a silent glance, immediately making a silent pact between them. _We will watch over him. We will do everything that it takes._

"Don't tell Leo," Raphael mouthed silently. "Not yet."

Donatello nodded in agreement. There was no way that he was going to let his oldest brother shoulder this burden as well. Sadly, he looked back to the youngest turtle and his heart felt like it was breaking at each subsequent sob.

"Oh, child." Master Splinter soothingly rubbed up and down Michelangelo's shell. "Oh, my poor child."

_What on earth can we do?_ Don's brows creased with worry. _Oh, Mikey…my baby brother…_

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_Please review! I really have no idea what to use flames for, but if you do then I'll figure something out._


	13. Epilogue

_A/N: Well, guys, this is it. Here's the epilogue. But don't worry, Broken Shells will be out in the next couple of weeks. A HUGE thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed and to those of you who have liked it enough to put it on your Favorite lists. And once again, thanks Moogs, for betaing this for me! _**:-)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the TMNT**

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December 30th

Well, it's been three days since I tried to…well, you know… Anyway, since then, everyone's been keeping an eye on me and treating me like I would try again any minute now. Even as I write this, I know that either Donnie or Raph are lurking just outside to make sure that I don't try anything. Yeah, like I'd do _that_ again. Having almost done it, I don't know what I was thinking. But then, I'm just not sure of anything that's gone through my head these past couple of days. There's so much that I don't remember. What was it Donnie called it? Oh yeah, memory lapse. It's really scary. I don't want it to happen again. I never know what I've done during those things.

I never really realized how much I could affect them. Because of me, Leo got stabbed, Raph got hurt, and Don almost drowned.

I never wanted to hurt my family like this.

In the meantime, Master Splinter's promised to help me work on more mental control so that I can prevent it from happening and maybe control these crazy mood swings that have been coming and going since everything that happened with Karai. My bros need me to be the happy little brother who always plays jokes and goofs off. I'm going to make sure I will be that for them, even if I don't feel like it. I guess that could be my resolution for this coming year.

Casey and April are coming over for a party tomorrow night. I'm pretty sure that Case will try to slip Raph a beer behind Splinter's back. At least, that's what they did last year. It was pretty funny when they got caught. Then we'll all watch the ball drop on TV since we're all undergrounded again. Maybe we can get April to kiss Casey at midnight. They really need to get hitched already.

Anyways, I'm going to make sure that my bros and everyone are happy. Even if I'm not. Don promised to make me better, but I have a feeling that's going to take a long time. 

While I am writing this I can feel the fear in my stomach again. I'm just so scared. I don't want to do anything again.

I know that they need me a certain way or everyone will suffer. I can't allow that. I guess that means that everything I feel otherwise needs to be hidden inside of this shell. Outside happy, inside torn apart. Don would love that paradox if he ever got his hands on it. But I won't let him. 

So now I'm promising myself this: I will be the brother that all of my bros need. I will act like I did before, but I'll be watching, always watching. I can never let anything happen to them and I will never let myself hurt them—even if my mind blanks again. I'll do anything to keep it from them. 

_This I absolutely promise…This is my resolution for this year and for as long as it needs to be. _

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Please review! You know you want to! This is your last chance for this fic! Flames will be used to heat up my coffee. **;-)**


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